


There Isn't a Secret

by songofsongs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aromantic Castiel, Aromantic Dean, Dean Talks About Feelings, M/M, and it's surprisingly not a trainwreck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofsongs/pseuds/songofsongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Cas did know a thing or two about not loving in the way he was supposed to. Maybe Cas loved in too many ways, and Dean in too few.  Then again, they’d both managed to stop an apocalypse, and so Dean decided right then, on the roof of some no-name motel in front of an empty parking lot in the middle of the night, maybe it didn’t matter what other people expected of them.  Maybe he was enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Isn't a Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime in season 6

Dean sat atop the roof of the newest motel in the line-up, an untouched pack of beer to his right and the parking lot laid out in front of him, a deep black tinted orange where the asphalt met the lampposts dotted around the perimeter. A slow, chill breeze kept him company, accented with the occasional gust of freezing air that made him regret leaving his jacket downstairs. He could go back down, but getting up here without drawing attention to the motel staff in the first place was mostly due to luck and he didn’t have a lot of that to go around nowadays. So instead he tucked his arms close to his chest and shuffled his legs around the concrete roof, trying to find any comfortable position he could despite not having an actual seat.

Just as he’d resigned himself to less-than-comfortable night he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention as the breeze picked up once again, only this time coming from the wrong direction.

He should have expected it, really, but he still had to keep himself from jumping when he inched his head around and saw the darkened silhouette out of the corner of his eye.

“Jesus Christ, Cas! What did I tell you about doing that?!”

Castiel’s brow dropped a bit as he glanced around. “I’m sorry, Dean. I would have knocked but there aren’t any doors up here.”

Dean bit back his sarcastic retort, which was going to be incredibly witty no doubt, grumbling as he turned to pull a beer from the ground to his right. “Well what are you doing here? Got another angelic instrument you need us to find?” He tried to keep the bitterness out his voice as he set to work opening the bottle but the combination of the chill and the interruption to his alone time was slowly grating at his nerves.

Cas didn’t respond at first. The wind ruffled his hair and the lapels of his coat swayed back and forth. Eventually he asked, “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

“Technically it’s the roof.”

Cas sighed, and though Dean didn’t look he was sure he was rolling his eyes too. He heard quiet scuffing noises to his left and then Cas was sitting next to him. Dean frowned, keenly aware that a heavenly powerhouse compressed into the size of a dude had just plopped himself down next to him. Gracefully plopped, of course. 

Dean legs shifted around.

He could only see as far as the parking lot, the field beyond it a pitch black that blended into the night sky. The only stars were few and faint, not providing much for Dean to look at. He searched instead for something else to say to Cas but decided if the angel had chosen to appear he probably had some reason and would eventually spit it out. 

Just as expected Cas soon admitted, “I’m sorry about Lisa.”

Okay…not quite as expected then. “Excuse me?”

Cas looked down at the concrete below him. “I had hoped you would be able to stay with her. Apparently…that is no longer possible.”

Dean stared at him blankly before he snorted and turned back to the parking lot. “Yeah. That’s one way of putting it.” He took a swig from his beer and added, “Pretty sure that makes you the only one who thought this would work out.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” When Dean looked at him again his head was turned towards Dean and his eyes were pinched in confusion and frustration.

“Man – I’m not cut out for the domestic life. I mean, it was nice to play along for a while, nice to have a family after I lost Sam, but I never would have lasted there. I knew it. Lisa knew it. She was just waiting for me to bail on her and Ben.”

“I thought Lisa was what you wanted.”

“Yeah well, me too.” The wind suddenly whipped past in a sharp gust and Dean shuffled around again. He couldn’t help but notice that Castiel seemed completely indifferent to the dropping temperature. Probably that stupid coat. Or the angel mojo. Yeah probably that last one actually.

In the distance he heard a bird caw. The sound echoed for a moment and Dean glanced around until is dissipated in the air around him. This vibrations seemed to sink into his bones, like he was hollow inside. His crossed his legs.

“Well what do you want then?”

Dean’s fingers tightened around the base of his beer. “I don’t know Cas. But I know I have more important shit to worry about right now. Sam’s been acting weird, hell even monsters have been acting weird…for monsters anyway.” As he took another drink from his beer he considered offering Cas one, but that would just encourage him to stay longer and Dean really didn’t want to put up with these invasive questions for much longer. “Anyway the whole…love thing never really worked for me. I can’t do it right.”

It was comical really, looking back, the speed at which Cas swiveled hid head to stare at Dean again. Kind of like an owl.

“Dean Winchester, I’ve watched humanity from its very conception, and I’ve heard a lot of bullshit.” Dean snorted but Cas simply ignored him. “Humans used to think the earth was a cube, and if you walked to far it was possible to fall off of the side of it. They thought that the natural actions of the planet, volcanoes and lighting, were signs of the end of times. They convinced masses of people that the only way to get into heaven was by monetarily paying the ruling clergy at the time, as if God cared about the amount of money they had. And I can honestly say, in all of my existence, I’ve never heard anything as wrong as what you just said.”

Through the span of Cas’ little monologue Dean had shaken off his initial shock and now he just chuckled. “Wow, Cas…way to make a guy feel humble.” He took another swig of his beer.

“I don’t think you understand, Dean. You were made to love. It’s what you’ve always done best.”

“Alright Dr. Phil, why don’t we save the feelings for after the commercial break, yeah?”

“No.”

It was said with such finality, with no room for argument that Dean finally snapped.

“Then explain to me, Cas! Tell me why everyone seems to be in on some secret that I don’t understand. Why does it feel like I’m always on a completely different page than everyone I’ve tried to have a relationship with? Where’s the rulebook they’re all following and where can I get one?!” Dean’s upper body was turned toward Cas now, the bottle clenched in his hands so tightly he was afraid for a moment it would break. As he relaxed his grip all the tension in his body fled as well. He sighed and turned back to the parking lot. He uncrossed his legs. 

It took a few moments before Cas responded, but when he did his voice was soft and somber. “There is more than one way to love someone, Dean. The way you feel about your brother, about your father, your mother, Bobby, Lisa, Ben and everyone else lucky enough to be a part of your life…that is more than enough. You love people wholly, unconditionally… passionately and protectively…there’s no better way to love. You think because it doesn’t look or sound the way everyone says it should that it’s not good enough but you’re wrong.” Here, he turned his body entirely towards Dean. “You were made to love. You were supposed to love your brother enough to go to hell for him, but you loved him even more, enough that even Heaven couldn’t fight it. My brothers and sisters could never love our God as much as you love your family. Dean Winchester…your love is holy.”

Dean felt trapped. He couldn’t look away from Cas’ eyes trained on him, looking into him, making him feel as if his skin had been pulled back and everything inside had been laid bare. He was suddenly overwhelmingly aware of the fact that Cas had been literally created to love God, and later to love humanity. Although he’d probably taken that last one a bit too far if the state of Heaven’s host was anything to go by. Maybe Cas did know a thing or two about not loving in the way he was supposed to. Maybe Cas loved in too many ways, and Dean in too few. Then again, they’d both managed to stop an apocalypse, and so Dean decided right then, on the roof of some no-name motel in front of an empty parking lot in the middle of the night, maybe it didn’t matter what other people expected of them. Maybe he was enough. 

And with that thought he finally broke eye contact with Cas and looked away. The silence hung over their heads as Cas patiently awaited Dean’s reaction, to see if he would make his usual joke or angrily leave him sitting alone on the roof. Instead he turned to his right, pulled a beer out the pack by his hip and handed it to Cas who took it quietly and smiled in thanks. Still, he needed to say something. Change the subject.

“What about you? You ever get the whole…candle-lit dinner thing?” Dammit.

Cas squinted and rolled the bottle of beer back and forth between his hands. Oh, Dean probably should have opened it for him. But he seemed content to just hold it for now so Dean shrugged it off.

“I was created to love as well…but to attempt to qualify that love by human standards would be foolish at best and – “

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re old and made of light or whatever. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that word enough to last me a lifetime anyway.”

Cas rolled his eyes but his smile stayed fond and Dean wasn’t worried. Not about a thing. The breeze had calmed now, still cool but it no longer bit at his nose. There was an angel sitting on his left picking at the label of a beer bottle, peeling it and then smoothing it back down again. The lamps in the parking lot glowed at him warmly, the stars sat in the sky just as dim as they pleased, and as he leaned back on his hands, his legs crossed comfortably at the ankle.


End file.
